


Shadow Puppet

by Aryū Muin (Caeslin)



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Body Horror, Community: badbadbathhouse, Eggs, Humiliation, M/M, Mpreg, Non Consensual, Other, Oviposition, Tentacles, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeslin/pseuds/Ary%C5%AB%20Muin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke's shadow has a grudge to settle. Yosuke can't escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow Puppet

**Author's Note:**

> (This is kink fic! If the tags for this story don't sound sexy to you, fair warning, this might not be a story that you will enjoy, because they are basically the whole fic.)
> 
> Originally written for the Persona 4 kink meme, [here](http://badbadbathhouse.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=11851718#t11851718), for a prompt involving Yosuke + shadow non-con + mpreg + humiliation. **(NOTE: The fill diverges pretty severely from the prompt in both content and tone.** See the content notes for more information.)
> 
>  **Content includes** : humiliation, non-consensual sex, tentacles, non-consensual mpreg (oviposition), mpreg as body horror, verbal abuse, large insertions, and anatomical incorrectness. Nothing nice happens to Yosuke in this story.

Yosuke struggled against the grip of innumerable shadow tendrils as his other self looked him coolly in the eye.

"So," said his shadow. "It's been a while."

The tendrils were wrapped thick around his limbs like living ropes, pulsing with the oily black energy unique to all the monsters in the TV world. They were cool and slimy and solid, keeping Yosuke immobilized in the air no matter how hard he tried to move his limbs. They'd contorted him into an awkward position -- arms pulled down and apart, legs spread, back arched uncomfortably -- but he still had a perfect view of his shadow, of the golden glint in his eye and the dark, humorless smile, and Yosuke shuddered. He tried to muster up a glare.

"What are you doing here?" he gritted.

"That's the question, isn't it?" the shadow said. "I bet you thought we were done. I bet you thought you'd gotten rid of me when you gave that little show of acceptance."

Well, yeah. Yosuke had thought that was how it worked, generally speaking. He'd seen it work on Yukiko and Kanji and and all the others, _felt_ it when his other half had transformed into Jiraiya and become part of his own strength. Shadows were supposed to go away when you accepted them. You weren't supposed to find yourself alone in the TV world one day, seized from behind by tentacles from some sort of shadow you'd never even seen before, and strung up like a puppet, for the shadow self you thought you had destroyed to look you in the face and start mocking you.

One of the tentacles slid stickily across his midsection. Yosuke hissed in a breath, and tried not to get distracted.

"You're pathetic," said the shadow, as he watched Yosuke squirm. "I can't believe I was ever part of you."

 _Well, it's not exactly my fault that I can't move,_ he groused to himself. Out loud, he said, "Is that supposed to be my true feelings? Because," he winced, as another cold tentacle licked around his neck, and why the hell was it even doing that? "I kind of already know that I'm lame. Just saying."

The shadow gave him a pitying smile. "Oh no, this isn't about you this time. I think we've already had more than enough of listening to your feelings and your stupid problems."

He had to not freak out. He had to -- shit, it was _going down the back of his shirt_ \-- he had to not ... wait.

"What?" he asked.

"This isn't about getting you to accept yourself." His shadow self smirked. He seemed amused by Yosuke's bewilderment, by his predicament in general. "This is about me."

"What? You?" This was making less and less sense the longer Yosuke dangled here; but even so, an ominous shiver had begun to travel up his spine. "You are me. I thought that's what this was all about, how we're both the same. The whole shadow world comes from human minds."

"It may come from you," said his shadow, its voice thick with derision, "but it doesn't end when you've decided you're happy with yourself. You made me, Yosuke, but we're not the same. Only part of you is in me. And even though you may have accepted yourself, I still exist. Here."

Yosuke stared at him. There was no way that could be true. That's not how any of this was supposed to work; you weren't supposed to have something come out of you that didn't go right back in. Your other self wasn't supposed to hang out in the TV world after you'd left it behind.

"You did a shit job, by the way," said the shadow, startling Yosuke out of his thoughts. "These parts of you, the things that make me me? They suck ass. Seriously, could you be any more stupid, any more bitter and annoying and insecure? Do you have any idea what it's like for me, to have to live with those qualities, all the things _you_ tried to hide, day in and day out? You're a real piece of work, Yosuke."

The words were familiar, but they still stung. Yosuke had no illusions; he knew he had problems, and he had thought he'd already made peace with those problems, but that still didn't mean he wanted to be subjected to hearing his self-loathing shadow reiterate them in detail.

The shadow laughed harshly. "Honestly? Sometimes I just want to punch you in the fucking face, and tell you to snap out of it already. But then I realize, no, wait. _You_ already have. It's _me_ who has to live this way."

Yosuke looked down at him, guarded.

"What do you expect me to do about that?" he asked. "If me changing isn't going to change you, doesn't that make me pretty much useless to you?"

"Oh, you're not entirely useless," said the shadow. "I'm not looking to fix anything." And then he looked Yosuke straight in the eye, his smile taking on a sudden deadly sharpness. "What I want is revenge."

All of a sudden, the tentacles that had kept Yosuke immobile were slithering, moving all over his body. He yelped as one slid down the back of his neck, tracing the skin on his nape and down his back in a slick, slimy caress. Other tentacles were slipping around his thighs; underneath the hem of his shirt; strengthening their hold on his wrists and ankles and pulling them further apart. He couldn't tell what they were doing, if there was any coordination to their suddenly renewed motions, but they slicked his arms and his back and anywhere else they could reach like they were desperate for the taste of his skin, and his shadow was calmly taking in every second of it.

"Fuck," Yosuke breathed, as another moist tentacle slipped its way under the front of his shirt. "Re--revenge?!" He could feel its cool flesh sliding against his skin with uncomfortable clarity, and gulped without meaning to when it slid over his navel. It felt gross, and too-sensitive, and made it difficult to concentrate on his words. "That's -- that's stupid, come on. You don't want revenge for something that's not my fault!"

Another tentacle -- there seemed to be more and more of them swarming over his body -- pushed its way up the back of his shirt, working with the one in front to nudge the flimsy cotton up his body. The pale, goosepimpled skin of his stomach was exposed to the air. Yosuke shuddered.

"It's your fault I'm here," said the shadow. "It's your fault I exist. Do you see anyone else to blame?"

"I don't -- I don't care," Yosuke said, his words rushing together as the tentacles slicked up his midsection, another adventurous one squeezing beneath the waistband of his pants, right next to his hipbone, and this was _horrible_. It was humiliating to be strung up and -- felt up -- like this, with someone watching and laughing at him; he'd never let another person see him naked before, he'd never let anyone but his teammates even see him _vulnerable_ before, and he couldn't stand to be fondled like this, tentacles peeling away his clothing like wrapping paper in front of someone who hated him. Who wanted to do this to him because they hated him. "I don't know whose fault it is," he said breathlessly, "I don't know and I'm sorry, but it's not _mine_ and I never meant for you to be saddled with my lousy personality and can you please," his voice caught in his throat for a horrible, humiliating second, "can you please tell this thing to let me go?"

"Hm." The shadow tapped his chin, looked Yosuke up and down like he was considering it. "Well." He lingered on the exposed skin of Yosuke's chest, the flushed pink nibs of his nipples exposed to the cold dungeon air, and Yosuke reddened. "No, I don't really feel like doing that."

Yosuke yelped, as the shadow's words set off another rush of slick, invasive motion: one tentacle crawled back out from under his shirt collar and wrapped itself quickly around his jaw, while another continued its journey down his hip and yet another began working with the catch of his pants. Tentacles wormed their way down his thighs beneath his jeans, and he struggled in vain to loosen himself from their iron grip, to shy away as one invasive tendril after another crept down the soft, sensitive skin of his inner thighs and the curve of his rear and even the crack of his ass beneath his briefs, slicking his skin with their fluid. He whimpered helplessly as they probed his flesh (oh god, oh fuck, no one had ever touched him down there, and his hands were nowhere near as soft or as gloriously, hideously wet as these things), and his pants were peeled down his thighs to expose his nakedness.

"Please stop," he begged. His shadow self only laughed.

He was getting hard, he realized. Through the horror and the embarrassment that kept him otherwise paralyzed, some part of him was reacting to the slimy touches of the shadow monster like they were caresses, like it was somebody's mouth or fingers covering him like this; with mortifying acuity, he could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his briefs, clearly visible for his shadow self to see.

Sure enough, he ascertained Yosuke's condition with a quick, perfunctory glance.

"Wow," the shadow said. "You're kind of a slut, aren't you?"

"Fuck you," Yosuke groaned.

"No really, look at you. You think I want to see you hard? You think I get hot watching you moaning and spreading yourself for me?"

" _Fuck_ \--" But before he could get the words out, a tentacle squirmed past his lips and stuffed itself into his mouth. He grunted sharply around it, his throat convulsing in an attempt to reject the foreign intrusion, but the shadow snaked in impossibly fast and strong, plunging so deep that it hit the back of his throat, making him choke.

"Oh, that's much better," said the shadow, as Yosuke coughed around the object.

The tentacle in his mouth pulsed. It throbbed, like a living thing; and once it had pushed in as far as it was going to go, he felt it start to grow, swelling alarmingly against his teeth and tongue. Yosuke he had no choice but to strain his jaw open, farther and farther, until his mouth was impossibly stretched, stuffed full with slimy, alien flesh. It tasted faintly, sickeningly sweet. He gagged around it. His eyes began to water from the discomfort of having his mouth stretched so wide; around the corners of his mouth, rivulets of drool began to seep out, mingling with the moisture from the shadow creature's limbs.

The limb worked his mouth with a crude, constant force. It felt like being fucked; he couldn't stop a helpless groan from escaping his mouth.

Meanwhile, other tentacles had discovered his nipples, and he gasped as they began to knead them, slow and rhythmic. It was like a fucked-up combination of someone's hand and their tongue, an impossibly flexible, suctioning force sucking away at his most sensitive places. They were suckling him, _nursing_ him, and he couldn't help but twist in their grip, squirming against that pressure.

Down below, his cock still throbbed, and the tentacles still refrained from touching it. They were sliding around every other bit of available skin: the backs of his knees, the insides of his thighs, the horribly sensitive junction at the corner of his inner legs and his crotch, even the opening of his asshole. Yosuke's underpants had been shoved down to mid-thigh, where they pulled uncomfortably against his widespread legs. His legs were damp with fluids. But his erection was still ramrod stiff and pulsing hot and completely, torturously untouched.

Not that Yosuke wanted a creepy tentacle monster pawing (wrapping? _sucking?_ ) at his dick, of course. He still felt the mortifying weight of his shadow's gaze and the excrutiating sensitivity of the tentacles' explorations, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like to get jerked off in front of those cruel eyes, how horrible and intense and awful it would feel to be milked dry and unable to stop his moans, his shouts, his desperate thrusts as he came ... but still, he couldn't force away the need that thrummed through his whole body, and if something didn't touch his hard-on right now he was probably going to die.

A tentacle probed against his asshole. Yosuke let out a muffled cry around the limb still stuffed in his mouth. His shadow chuckled. Fuck, his shadow could see the whole thing; he was drinking in the sight of Yosuke, as he moaned and writhed under the creature's attention like an animal, as it gagged his mouth and sucked his nipples and was now, horrifyingly, licking slowly into his ass.

"Wouldn't it have been fun if _this_ was what your shadow confrontation was about?" said his shadow. "I can just imagine it. 'Guys, what I really want is to be fucked by monsters until I can't stand up! I'm such a horny slut, you guys, I really need to take it in every hole. Kanji, can you stuff my mouth? Partner, can you fuck me in the ass?'"

The sudden, vivid image of his teammates -- of Kanji and Chie and Yukiko and, god, _Souji_ \-- seeing him like this gave Yosuke a horrific shock, and made him whimper. Oh god, he could imagine their eyes on him, disgust and disapproval as he panted and drooled and moaned, and it was like an iron shock straight to his cock, a paralyzing jolt of electricity.

"'Make me your bitch, guys, please! I'm such a pathetic little whore I don't know what to do. Look at me, gagging on that shadow cock like it's the best thing I've ever tasted.'" The shadow sneered at him. "Could you be any more pathetic? I really can't imagine how."

He was _turned on_. Fuck, fuck, what was wrong with him? And his shadow was watching, watching and smiling, like he knew just how fucked up Yosuke was. (And meanwhile that tentacle was continuing to work at his ass, so warm and wet and slick as it slid further inside him, and Yosuke couldn't stop himself from grinding his hips down on it, gasping as it pressed against his prostate.)

"I can't tell, though" his shadow said idly, "I never got a good enough reading on any of those guys to check. Do you think they would take the chance to fuck you? Or would they be too disgusted by how much of a loser you are to even want to?"

He could imagine it: Souji pounding him on one end and Kanji on the other fucking his mouth, both of them trading disgusted looks over Yosuke's bent back as he gagged for it. He wouldn't have wanted either of them, of course, but after seeing him like this, how could they doubt that he was anything but a huge slut? They'd think he asked for it it. They'd think he _liked_ it, getting slammed on both ends, and hey, what are friends for if not giving their terminal loser of a friend the brutal fucking he was messed-up enough to ask for, right? _'We want to help you accept yourself, Yosuke. You have to be honest about your desires.'_

Or worse: they wouldn't be able to bear touching him. No one on the team would be able to look at him, after seeing him violated in every humiliating way. _'Never knew you were such a nympho, sempai. No offense, but I coulda gone my whole life without knowing that.'_ _'Yosuke-kun, you're so gross! What is wrong with you?'_

That one tentacle was probing deeper into his ass, now. Yosuke moaned. It was throbbing right against his prostate, and it was also crawling further in, making him feel pleasure and discomfort with the same strokes. It was crawling in _too far_ , he realized slowly, pressing deeper than any finger or sex toy could reach, and it didn't seem inclined to stop. He could feel it start to thicken at the base, too; it was thickening all over, like the one in his mouth, starting to painfully stretch the walls of his passage.

Yosuke grunted and tried to strain away from the tentacle, tried to lift himself off, but it was in too deep, and it was so strong that he couldn't clench down on it or force it out. Instead, it forced his muscles open, arousal turning quickly to discomfort and pain, and Yosuke groaned as his hole was stretched wide by the tentacle's throbbing girth. The pressure grew unbearable, until it was a hundred times worse than the tentacle stretching his mouth, something shoved up and _in_ (oh god, oh god, he could feel every thrust of it inside him) to a place it was never supposed to go. Yosuke panted desperately as the tentacle explored his innermost recesses. There wasn't _room_ inside him for anything more; his ass was too tight, it was stuffed far too full, nothing else would fit. And yet the tentacle kept coming in.

Every throb and pulse the tentacle made inside him went straight to his prostate; but the brief, breathless flashes of pleasure it produced in him were nothing compared to the now steady ache of pain, from his mouth and his hole and his somehow still hard cock.

"In case you're wondering," said the shadow, "this is going somewhere."

Yosuke was too lightheaded with pain and panic and arousal to process the words, at first, but at last they sunk in. With a dawning sense of wary hope, he looked down at his doppleganger. He tried to push through the feeling of the tentacles fucking him, tried not to think about the show he was putting on. Tried to focus on what his shadow had just said. _Going somewhere_ meant there was an end to all this.

"You didn't seriously think I brought you here because I wanted to see you get off, did you? God, you're an idiot." His shadow sneered. "I may be evil, but I'm not desperate." It paused, as if to let that sink in. "No. I brought you here because of this problem we already discussed, where you're a huge pain in the ass, which I have to live with and you don't."

Yosuke was trying desperately to stay silent and still, to not writhe under the tentacles' agonizing ministrations, and didn't notice at first that his shadow had stopped to look at him. Yosuke stared back, uncomprehending, until he realized he was supposed to say something back. Cheeks burning with shame and resentment, he bobbed his head around the tentacle in his mouth in what he hoped looked like a nod.

"Well," said the shadow, "it made me think. I thought to myself that you _should_ live with that feeling. After all, it's only fair, right? I am you, and you are me."

He smirked up at Yosuke.

"Do you know where shadows come from?"

At first, Yosuke wondered if he had misheard. Because -- what the hell? What did that have to do with _anything_? But his shadow continued.

"Oh yeah, I forgot; world-class idiot I'm talking to. Shouldn't have even asked.

"Even you know that shadows represent all the dark sides of people, right? Fear. Hatred. Weakness. Jealousy. Everything a person doesn't want to acknowledge about himself. Well, don't you ever wonder whose fear and hatred those are? All those little shadows, the ones you and your teammates fight in the TV world, even the one that's fucking you now -- they're what happens when a tiny bit of dark matter latches onto one of those feelings in a human heart. The matter is like an egg, a kernel of life. And the feelings are what fertilize it and turn it into a monster. They're like the seed."

The shadow's words seemed to be putting the tentacles wrapped around Yosuke's body to sleep; they were slowing their movements and stilling against him. The one in his mouth was shrinking too, degree by degree, until it had slimmed back to its normal size and could slowly pull out. When it slipped past his lips, Yosuke gasped for breath and let his mouth fall closed, wincing at the soreness in his jaw and the lingering sickly-sweet taste on his tongue.

"Egg. Seed. That make sense to you?"

"What -- what are you trying to say?" Yosuke said. His voice was embarrassingly hoarse. "Do you want to use the bad parts of me to make shadows? What's the point? There are more than enough already here."

"There's one other thing you need to make shadows," his other self said. "A human host."

"What?" Yosuke said.

"An incubator. A womb. To help the eggs grow," the shadow explained, entirely unnecessarily, because Yosuke knew what a womb was. What this had to do with him, or with revenge he had no idea, unless --

He blanched.

"You're not serious," he said.

"It's only fitting, right? I have to live with these things, you have to live with these things. Plus you're such a slut already. You'll have more than enough room to fit all those flaws when they're turned into eggs."

"That's fucked up," he said. "I'm not a _girl_ \--"

"And these aren't human babies, dumbass," his other self snapped. "They're shadows. They're very forgiving; they'd have to be, to accept a loser like you as their host." A hint of a smile crept onto its face. "You're going to be so full, Yosuke. They'll have a feast with all your issues, they'll grow so fast inside you, and you won't be able to do anything to stop them."

Yosuke could feel the thick length of the tentacle still stuffed far up his ass. Its end was not just wide, he realized, but weirdly round; bulging, even, as though there were something fitted inside it, something other than muscle and tissue.

"No," he said faintly. "No way."

"'No,' what?"

" _No_ , I'm not letting you -- it -- use me as a host!"

"I'm not sure you have much say in the matter," said his shadow, coolly. "Besides, don't you think it's kind of fitting? Yosuke the whore, stuffed up with babies. Yosuke the attention whore. You always wanted people to pay attention to you, right? Always wanted people to _like_ you, to _notice_ you. Well, they'll notice you when you're so filled with shadow eggs you can't move. When you're _pregnant_. They'll see your swollen belly and your aching dick and they'll know you're a freak."

"Shut up," he said shakily, as he felt his cock respond to the words. He tried to will down his arousal, knew he shouldn't be responding to the shadow's obscene taunts, but it throbbed with excitement, those horrible images electrifying it in a way that made him feel sick to his stomach.

"What, that doesn't sound good to you? That's not turning you on?" His shadow cast a purposeful glance down at Yosuke's erection. "Prove it, then. Beg for it."

He was so embarrassed he could die, so angry he could scream. But somehow, he forced the words out.

"Please don't," he gritted.

"Please don't what?" the shadow said. It sounded bored.

"Please don't ..." Yosuke felt himself flushing, "... let it lay eggs in me."

The tentacle in his ass suddenly throbbed, and maybe it was his imagination but Yosuke was convinced he could feel something in it shifting, almost like the bulge was moving closer to the end, starting to push against the very tip of the organ.

"Please don't," he pleaded, urgency leaping into his tone, "please -- please, don't, I don't want any eggs, I don't want to become p--pregnant."

"Say that again," said the shadow, lazily.

"Please don't make me pregnant!" Yosuke begged. "I mean it -- I'll do anything, anything you want, just please, no--" He swallowed as there was another contraction, the bulge pushing even more firmly against the tentacle's opening. "--no, no, no ..."

The shadow watched him. Yosuke could feel tears trickling down his red flushed cheeks, as that horrible pressure shifted inside him, got closer and closer to releasing.

"That was pretty convincing," the shadow said. Yosuke dared to return his captor's gaze. "But no, sorry, you're out of luck."

With a sudden horrifying squish of pressure, something warm and wet and solid shot into Yosuke's inner passage. He cried out in alarm; he could feel it, moving deeper and deeper within him, impossibly deep, until he could feel it -- _he could feel it_ \-- lodge in the pit of his stomach with a sickening weight.

"Well," said his shadow, "that's the first one."

"No," he sobbed. "No, you -- you can't."

"I just _did_ , actually. Better get ready for another."

Yosuke whimpered, then groaned, as a second egg pushed inside him. The tentacle, he could feel, was growing full of them; they were stacked one after another, countless round lumps stretching his passage, all of them waiting to lodge in his belly. He was helpless to stop them, his muscles locked tight by the grip of the monster's many limbs, and could only squirm and cry out as they pumped into his body one by one.

And then it all got worse, as the other tentacles woke up and wound their way back around his body. They began to resume their vigorous exploration of his nipples, his thighs, his ass, one even rimming the painfully stretched skin of his asshole with a maddening sensitivity that made him gasp and moan. Tentacles wound around his neck and ears and lips and stuffed themselves into his mouth. He really was being used now, a limb pumping in every orifice, and meanwhile his ass was greedily swallowing eggs as quickly as the shadow could spit them out. He wasn't sure how many had entered him by now -- six, seven, eight? -- but they kept coming and coming, an endless-seeming flow from the tentacle into his ass and up into his stomach. His womb. Yosuke felt it gradually grow heavy and full, as eggs piled in, one after another. He sobbed around the thick weight in his mouth.

Gradually, the strength of resistance seeped out of him.

Time passed.

Yosuke's stomach was full to bursting by the time the last of the eggs had entered him. He didn't just feel full; his belly was fat and round, visibly distended. Yosuke looked down at his grotesque condition with a numb, glazed expression.

As the last egg settled inside him, the newly emptied tentacle coiled deep within him slowly shrunk back to its original size, until the pressure on his inner walls had relaxed, and it could snake back out of his passage. The other tentacles gradually stopped their assault as well, unwinding themselves slowly from Yosuke's body, until only the ones securing his limbs remained attached.

"I had my doubts, but you fit them all," his other self said. "One for every flaw. Who would have guessed you'd have so many? Or that you'd be able to carry them all? You're stretched so full. It must be uncomfortable."

Yosuke whimpered. He felt so weak and nauseous he wasn't even sure he could speak. He could feel the eggs shifting inside him. He could feel them pushing against the walls of his stomach, far too many to fit in such a small tight space, painfully uncomfortable. Even if the limbs of the shadow hadn't been keeping him restrained, he doubted he would be able to move, stuffed as he was.

"You look disgusting. You know that, right? If only your friends could see." The shadow almost sounded amused. "How would it feel to have someone fuck you in that condition? To have your friends take turns in your ass, pressing up against all those eggs? I'm sure they wouldn't be at all surprised to learn you'd been dumb enough to get yourself knocked up. If anyone can do it, Yosuke can, right?"

He could hardly pay attention to the words. All he could feel was the unbearable pressure of the eggs, stretching him from the inside, so tight he felt about to burst. He flushed in shame, feeling the eyes of his doppleganger and knowing just what he must look like, huge and bloated and grotesque, and still unable to keep from groaning and gasping as the eggs jostled within him.

"I bet that makes you hot, thinking of them fucking you when you can't even move," it said. "When all you can do is grunt and squeal like an animal, and take it from them as they fill you with their come, makes you their bitch. Makes you feel every one of those eggs inside you as they fuck your slutty hole."

Oh god, every part of his body was so _tight._ His abdomen, swelling outward. His nipples, painfully taut, ever since the tentacles had released their suckling hold on them. Worst and tightest of all, his cock, which was still hard and straining against his body, still moist with precome. Now that Yosuke had grown so fat, it sometimes bumped against the firm surface of his belly when he twisted in his hold, making him gasp for breath. The friction was never enough to satiate him; it only made the pain of his predicament more acute.

His shadow took a step forward.

"How would you feel," it asked, "if they put their hands all over you and realized just how fucked up you are?"

And with that, the shadow reached out his palm and pressed it firmly against Yosuke's swollen stomach.

It was agony. The shadow's warm, rough skin was nothing like the slick alien caresses of the tentacles, instead firm and rough and _real_ against Yosuke's overstimulated flesh. It felt warm and human (like his own hands, like someone else's hands, like--), and it rubbed against the eggs, made them squirm inside him, made him let out a desperate groan. His shadow began stroking his skin, _kneading_ it; it was the best and worst thing Yosuke had ever felt. He squirmed and panted, trying to shy away from the pressure and press into it all at once.

_Stop, stop, stop--_

A sharp, painful pressure was gathering in his groin. The eggs were shifting, straining, moving. Yosuke's shadow leaned close.

"They'll hatch when you come," it said.

It put its free hand on Yosuke's dick.

And then Yosuke was coming, he was coming so hard, and he screamed as everything seemed to rush out of him and pleasure surged painfully through his veins and the whole world went white.

-

Yosuke gasped as his eyes snapped open in the dark.

The air was still and quiet; it was pitch black, the middle of the night, and he was on his back in bed.

He was in _bed_. As his senses came back to him, Yosuke gradually recognized the soft feel of blankets coccooned around his body, the quiet snuffling sound of Teddie breathing beside him, fast asleep, and the cold, uncomfortable wetness in his pajama pants that told him he had just come in his shorts.

Shit.

Yosuke scowled and shifted beneath the covers, trying to assess the damage, knowing this meant that he'd have to get up and out of his warm bed without waking up Teddie in order to change clothes. And meanwhile, the dream was coming back to him in bits and pieces, making him feel increasingly freaked out.

Wow.

Okay.

What in the world had gotten into him, to dream about something like ... like that? (He couldn't say the words to himself, even in his head.) And why the hell had it made him _come_? Yosuke had never thought about any of that stuff, not in any of his fantasies, not in any context, ever. Whatever he might brag about to Souji and Kanji, he was actually a pretty vanilla guy, at least as far as the things he jerked off to were concerned. He was certainly not the sort of guy to dream about weird, fucked-up fantasies with shadows. Certainly not the sort of guy to _enjoy_ it. He had no idea how he'd come at all, honestly; in the light of the real world, the dream didn't seem remotely hot. That was probably, no, definitely a good thing.

Yosuke nearly had a heart attack when his phone started to buzz on the bedside table.

Turning hastily toward it, hoping it hadn't woken up Ted, he pawed for it and snapped the display open right as it flashed a message notification. A text message from Souji.

He frowned and opened it.  
  
From: Souji Seta  
Did you watch the midnight channel tonight?

Yosuke stared at the text. The Midnight Channel? Well, no, obviously, he'd been asleep; but a faint, rhythmic pattering sound slowly reached his ears, and he realized that yes, it was raining outside. He hadn't even thought to look at the forecast. Why would he, when they'd wrapped up the murders weeks ago?

From: Yosuke Hanamura  
no, fell asleep, sry. y?

The reply came only a few seconds later, startling him as his phone vibrated in his hand.

From: Souji Seta  
No reason. Hope I didn't wake you up.

There was something weird about that, but Yosuke was too tired to figure out what, exactly. Instead, he typed out a response.

From: Yosuke Hanamura  
did _u_ watch it?

From: Souji Seta  
A little. You really didn't miss much, though; there was nothing to see.

From: Yosuke Hanamura  
y'd u message me if it was for no reason?? ur so weird, lol.

From: Souji Seta  
Haha, sorry.

From: Souji Seta  
Guess I'm feeling a little confused tonight.

Yosuke frowned at the screen. Souji couldn't possibly know what Yosuke was thinking right now; he couldn't tell that Yosuke was confused, too, probably moreso than he'd ever been before. But the words felt personal anyway.

From: Yosuke Hanamura  
u ok?

From: Souji Seta  
No, I'm fine, I probably just need sleep.

From: Souji Seta  
You should get to bed.

From: Yosuke Hanamura  
u should stop messaging me, then. :P

From: Souji Seta  
Good point.  
Sleep well, okay?

And see, that was weird too. Souji was kind of a touchy-feely guy, but this felt a little clingy, even for him -- a little too on-point given Yosuke's current emotional state.

But that was stupid. Shaking himself, Yosuke typed a quick reply.

From: Yosuke Hanamura  
already on it, dude. ;-) c u 2morrow.

From: Souji Seta  
Absolutely. Good night.

The text display glowed in the darkness for a few seconds more, then faded to black. Yosuke looked down at it for a while longer before shutting the phone and setting it back on his dresser. Contrary to his words, he wasn't feeling sleepy at all, now; part of it was his damp clothes, but part of him had woken up over the course of reading Souji's messages.

Why had Souji even thought to check the Midnight Channel tonight, anyway?

Why had he decided to message Yosuke about it?

Yosuke groaned, and flopped back into bed. This was no good to think about, not when he was in such a weird mood. He seriously needed to sleep. Things would make more sense in the morning; it's not like they could make any less. He would run a load of laundry, and he and Teddie would have breakfast, and he would hang out with Souji in the afternoon and talk about stupid, normal stuff. He would never, ever, ever mention his dream to anyone; eventually he'd forget he ever dreamed it.

He would definitely forget. That's how these things worked.

Yosuke shivered.

He lay in bed for what felt like ages, but sleep was a long time coming.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Helping Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/323853) by [Aryū Muin (Caeslin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeslin/pseuds/Ary%C5%AB%20Muin)
  * [Weight of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705725) by [Yamiyoru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamiyoru/pseuds/Yamiyoru)




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